


Inches Apart

by neurolingual



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:56:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurolingual/pseuds/neurolingual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sun shone brightly through her white curtains every morning, basking her room in a heavenly glow as rays glistened along her porcelain painted walls and danced along her glossy hardwood floors.</p>
<p>She wondered if her the girl next door's mornings looked like this, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inches Apart

The sun shone brightly through her white curtains every morning, basking her room in a heavenly glow as rays glistened along her porcelain painted walls and danced along her glossy hardwood floors.

She wondered if her the girl next door's mornings looked like this, too.

Lauren rose today at an earlier hour than what was normal for her, blinking away remnants of sleep with her arms stretched high above her head, a hum of relaxation slipping past her lips. She patted around on the mattress in search of her book, the one she had fallen asleep reading last night. The novel was open face down on her extra pillow, pages pressed and crinkled against the soft fabric. With a small grin Lauren scooped the book into her hands and dog-eared the current page to hold her place.

Sounds of feet pattering around the floors downstairs broadened her grin; her mother must be awake already, slaving over breakfast like she would almost every morning, making a meal fit for an army when it was only her and Lauren there. But each day, Lauren would except her heaping plateful of warm breakfast foods and scarf it down like she had been deprived of sustenance for days. Anything to see her mother smile, she would think as she guzzled down her ritual glass of orange juice.

From her mattress, she could easily peer out her window and into the neighbor girl's bedroom. They had never spoken before, but Lauren would watch her (in a totally _not_ creepy stalkerish way, she had deemed) dance around in her bedroom, music blasting as she held a brush towards her lips pretending as if it were a microphone, belting out lyrics to songs Lauren had never heard before. She smiled each time, knowing she was glimpsing into a part of this girl's life that no one had seen before (and each time the girl's mother stormed into the room, yelling in broken Spanish-English for the girl to turn her music down, Lauren would chuckle at the girl's flustered face and muffled stammering as she rushed to turn her speaker system off).

This time, however, Lauren caught the girl waking up. Her incredibly long, brown hair was tousled messily over her shoulders, fly-aways sticking out from the top of her head. The girl didn't bother to stifle her yawn, white teeth presenting themselves from behind the shield of her lips, tongue curling backwards. The arms she had stretched over her head dropped gracelessly to her sides, but she brought her one hand up to rub tiredly at her eyes.

The image made Lauren's heart swell, and she bit back a grin as the girl just so happen to turn towards the window and meet her gaze. A look of surprise took over her features, due to the fact that she hadn't realized she was in the presence of hidden company. A rosy tinge spread across her cheeks as she smiled shyly in Lauren direction; Lauren smiled back and gave the girl a small wave.

An idea sparked suddenly in Lauren's mind. She held up a finger at the girl, who was still looking at her, almost missing the confused pout she tossed Lauren's way. Lauren scrambled up from her mattress and shuffled across the room to her dresser, picking up her half-empty notepad and marker before trotting back towards the window. Kneeling in front of the glass, Lauren scribbled something down on the paper before holding it up against the window pane.

_‘Good morning’_ , the sheet read. As the girl's eyes skimmed over it, her pout morphed into a grin and she held up a finger of her own, gesturing for Lauren to wait as she stood from her bed and moved out of sight. When she returned, she jotted a message down of her own held it up against the glass.

‘ _Good morning to you, too_ ,’ it said, along with an accompanying ‘ _:)_ ’.

The action made Lauren grin, and she bit down on her bottom lip before writing back.

‘ _Did you sleep well?_ ’ Lauren's message read. The girl looked towards the paper in her hands, brow furrowing as she wrote down her answer.

‘ _I did. I fell asleep reading though. My book ended up resting on my face_.’

Lauren laughed, the sound echoing throughout her empty bedroom. It was her turn to write back:

‘ _I have to get ready for work now :(‘,_ it read, and Lauren added a small pout of her own for emphasis. She saw the girl chuckle before she scribbled something down.

‘ _That sucks. I hope you have a good day, at least._ ’

A phantom pressure squeezed Lauren's heart inside her chest. She jotted down a quick ‘ _Thank you!_ ’ and held it up to the window before turning the page and writing once more. ‘ _Have a nice time doing whatever it is that you do as well.’_

The girl laughed, and instead of writing back, she mouth Lauren a "thank you". They stared openly at each other for a few more moments until Lauren deemed that she was spending an inappropriate amount of time gaping at the girl. She stood from the floor and cast the girl another small wave before grabbing the towel she had hanging off the back of her door, heading towards the bathroom.

As Lauren stood under the shower head, scalding water cascading down her shoulder blades, she felt a heavy longing to run back to her window, just to check and see if the girl was still sitting there, gazing in to Lauren's empty room as Lauren had done so to the girl's own room in her absence.

 

* * *

 

That night, Lauren had arrived home after one of the most stressful days of work she had had so far this week, an angry scowl marring her features and she pushed past the front door. Her mother, seated at the kitchen table, looked up at the forceful intrusion. She tried calling out to Lauren, tried to ask her daughter about her day, but Lauren ignored her, trudging up the stairs and into her room, slamming her door shut behind her.

_Stupid people and their stupid bitching_ , Lauren thought back to one of her customers in particular as she dropped unceremoniously onto her bed. _Obviously, if you wanted to watch the football game, you would have seated yourself at the bar instead of halfway across the restaurant. It's not_ my _fault there are no TVs mounted above your table at your leisure._

A soft strumming dowsed Lauren's fuming mind, musical notes drifting through the air. The song sounded familiar -- and close, very close. It wasn't something her mother would listen too, she knew that for a fact; this song was of her generation, and Lauren's mother preferred listening to her old Cuban vinyls (she didn't much care for the type of music Lauren blasted through her ear buds).

Lifting her upper body off the mattress, Lauren's eyes immediately drifted to her window, left cracked open, where the strumming was billowing through the empty space. Curiosity getting the best of her, Lauren peered through the window, seeing the girl from next door seated on the roof just outside her own window, guitar in her hands and she sang quietly to herself.

Lauren felt herself smile for the first time after her previous eight hour personal hell. The girl's music seemed to ebb away Lauren's urge to smash a vase (or something) in frustration.

Sighing, Lauren stood and moved towards her window, lifting the glass and the screen high enough for her to step out onto her roof. The girl hadn't noticed her emergence, so instead of making her presence known, Lauren sat herself down on top of the worn, brown shingles, her back resting against the faded white siding of her house.

She could see the girl so much better from the short distance; their roofs were almost connected, after all, possibly an inch or two of separation between them. The thought of standing up and walking over to the girl's side was impossibly pleasant, but the idea of disturbing her while she was obviously so content with the instrument in her hands made Lauren want to frown.

The girl's singing had grown louder, and Lauren let her eyelids flutter shut, resting her head back against the siding of her house, perfectly happy with allowing the girl's music lull her into a blissful trance.

" _Oh you were reading a book about some idiot,_  
 _and telling me about another._  
 _I was so severely underwhelmed_  
 _I thought I might never recover_.

_Straighten the rudder girl,_  
 _and sail me up stairs_ ,  
 _and go and find somebody who cares._  
 _Well we might not be_  
 _the perfect partners,_  
 _but tonight we make a pair_ \-- Oh!"

Lauren's eyes snapped open and she stared at the girl, who was staring back at her in a surprised embarrassment, a sheepish smile pulling at her lips.

"I'm sorry," Lauren offered, watching the girl's brow furrow. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"You- you can, um," the girl's face flushed bright red; Lauren saw the tips of her ears burning as the girl tucked strands of hair behind them. "I-I can go practice inside. If you to want to be alone."

"No," Lauren protested, arm shooting out to reach for the girl -- which was a stupid gesture to begin with, she realized, and she dropped her arm back down to her side, missing the girl's eyes trailing after it. "You don't have to go. I was just listening to you play."

The girl didn't respond. Instead, Lauren watched with an inkling of curiosity as the girl's eyes roamed over her face; she seemed to catch herself, though, and her eyes shot down to her hands, which were fiddling with a loose piece of wood at the neck of her guitar. Lauren felt herself smile.

"You have a beautiful voice," Lauren's smile widened. "I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up buying your music someday."

The girl let out a nervous laugh and Lauren's heart squeezed.

"I'm not that good," the girl shrugged.

Lauren frowned. "You're not serious, are you?" When the girl only stared blankly back at her, she continued. "I haven't heard anyone sing like that before. You didn't even have to be loud, and you're voice was already melodic and enchanting."

Across the way, the girl's blush darkened more to a considerable shade of scarlet. "Um, I-I don't, uh..." she swallowed. “Thank you?"

Lauren's face held an easy smile. "You're welcome."

A few moments of awkward, but nice, Lauren thought, silence spread between them, Lauren gazing at the girl while she tried looking anywhere Lauren wasn't. A thought bubbled in Lauren's mind.

"I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?" She frowned slightly. "It was unthoughtfully rude of me to just intrude on your practicing time like this."

"N-No!" The girl's head shot towards Lauren. "It's okay, really. I don't mind." She gave Lauren a shy smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed listening to me."

"It _was_ very relaxing," she smirked. Realizing she still had no idea what this girl's name was, Lauren pushed herself towards the edge of her roof, legs crossed and hand outstretched towards the girl. "I'm Lauren.

The girl only looked at Lauren open palm for a few seconds before a slow smile spread across her lips. She set her guitar down gently and scooted across the roof, grasping Lauren's hand as she bit down on her lip.

"Camila."

 

* * *

 

Three loud knocks against her window roused Lauren from slumber, and she groaned irritably at the pestering sound. She tiredly swatted the noise away; it was futile, of course, because the rapping only intensified in volume.

"Jesus Christ," she mumbled groggily into her pillow.

"Lauren!" Camila called from outside, the cheeriness in her voice managing to rub away a bit of Lauren's annoyance. "Open up!"

With a frown, Lauren rolled over on her mattress to her window, coming face-to-face with Camila's wide grin. It made her want to smile, how awake and happy the younger girl seemed to be at this hour of the morning. In lieu of a greeting, Lauren scowled, opening up her window and screen to allow the girl entrance. She rolled back over onto her bed and pulled the covers over her head. She felt Camila plop down gracelessly beside her.

"You're not a morning person, are you?" Camila questioned, poking the exposed part of Lauren's shoulder.

"Not when annoying little squirrels are scratching at my window, I'm not."

"Are you comparing me to a rodent?"

Abandoning hope on falling back asleep, Lauren threw the blankets off her head and glared at Camila, who continued to smile at her despite Lauren's moodiness.

"Do you know what time it is?" Lauren grumbled.

"Yep!" Camila responded airily. "It's, like, eight fifteen!"

"Exactly," Lauren sighed. "And I could have slept in because I don't have to work today."

"And I don't have school on this wonderful Sunday morning, which is why I thought we could hang out."

"Couldn't it have waited a few more hours?"

"Aw," Camila cooed teasingly, jabbing Lauren in the side with her fingers. "Is someone cranky?"

"Camila, stop." Lauren squirmed under the pressure of Camila's fingers, trying to mask the amusement in her voice.

"Are you ticklish?" Lauren could hear the smirk in Camila's voice.

"No!" she answered too quickly. A menacing smile tugged at the corners of Camila's mouth, her fingers wiggling, hovering over Lauren's torso. "Don't even think about it," she warned, but Camila's fingers inched closer. "Stop!"

"Wake up!" Camila shouted, pouncing on top of Lauren's body, her fingers digging into every available crevice of Lauren's body. Lauren screamed, at first, then dissolved into a fit of giggles as Camila tickled her relentlessly. "C'mon, Lauren! The sun is awake, so you should be awake, too!"

"Camz!" Lauren laughed, twitching underneath Camila. The girl tickled her for what seemed like forever until she was laughing herself and had to let go of Lauren to clutch at her stomach.

Camila continued to giggle while sitting on top of her; Lauren was content on allowing the girl to remain in her current position for as long as she pleased, her heart beating manically in her chest.

"Are you awake now?" Camila asked, wiggling her eyebrows at Lauren, to which the older girl rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Camila, I'm awake. Get off!" She playfully shoved Camila off to the side, the younger girl rolling into the mattress beside Lauren.

They sat in silence for a while, Camila content at making faces up at Lauren's ceiling as Lauren watched her with an amused smile.

"What are you doing?" Lauren asked. "Why are you making faces at my ceiling? It can't see you, you know. It can't make a face back at you."

"I'm thinking," Camila answered, like it wasn't obvious that she was engrossed in her own thoughts as she pensively gazed up at the white wall above her.

"Do you always make those dumb faces when you're thinking?"

"Hey!" She smacked Lauren in the shoulder. "You're ceiling has no life."

"That's because it's a _ceiling_ , Camila. It's not a living thing."

Camila rolled her eyes. "No, you jerk. I meant your ceiling has no _life_ , no _character_ \-- it's just plain and white and boring."

"Oh?" Lauren cocked a brow. "And is your ceiling _not_ plain and white and boring?"

"Nope!" Her head lulled to the side, her eyes squeezed shut as she gave Lauren a broad, goofy smile. "My ceiling has things on it."

"How could a tiny person like you even _reach_ a ceiling?"

Camila pouted. "With a step-latter, dummy." She tapped on Lauren's forehead. "Is there anything actually _in_ there?" She gestured to Lauren's brain. "Or is it just as dense and dull as the rest of you?"

"I'm not dense!"

"So, you're dull, then?"

"I'm not that either!"

"Well, you certainly didn't defend yourself by calling out _both_ of those personality traits at first. It was only after I mentioned that, you are, in fact, dull, that you came to your own defense for a second time."

Lauren scowled. "Stop talking before I throw you out the window."

"We should really do something about your ceiling, though," Camila looked upwards, ignoring Lauren's faux threat. "It's making me sad just looking at it."

"Maybe I like my ceiling the way it is."

"Then you have a horrible taste in interior design, my friend."

Lauren pushed herself up on her elbows, glaring down at Camila as she continued to gaze pensively up at Lauren's ceiling. "Did you seriously wake me up at eight in the morning-"

"Eight fifteen!"

"...to lecture me about my ceiling?"

"No," Camila shrugged her shoulders, still not looking at Lauren. "I came over because I wanted to spend my day with you, but I became distracted by your horribly tragic room." She glanced around the rest if Lauren's room, her frown deepening. "How can you _live_ in here? It's so dead."

"If all you're going to do today is bash my room, you can kindly leave."

"I brought over those books I was telling you about!" Camila's smile suddenly returned, and she rolled over in her side to scoop up the impending items into her arms. "Look! See?"

"I see," Lauren mumbled disinterestedly as a response, picking up the first book from the pile in Camila's arms. She turned the novel over in her hands, examining the back cover. " _Uglies_? What is this even about?"

"Well, I can't exactly _tell_ you, or otherwise it would ruin the whole experience."

Lauren looked back at Camila. "Experience?"

"Oh, that book is a journey, Lauren," she drawled with a fake southern accent, balancing the other novels in one arm to place a hand against her chest. "It's an absolute peach!" She dropped her act, along with the books, onto Lauren's bed and shuffled through the pile to grab another two novels in her hands. "And, also, I brought over the books that follow it! There's _Pretties_ , the second book, and then _Specials_." She suddenly frowned. "There's also a fourth book, but it sucks and I'm not going to put you through that."

Lauren eyed the girl cautiously. "You're quite annoying."

"Yeah, well, I don't know what it is about you, but you seem to inspire it in me, so," she shrugged her shoulders. "But," her eyes narrowed. "Before any reading happens, we are seriously going to do something about this room. It's sucking the life out of me."

 

* * *

 

It was a late Tuesday night when Lauren returned home from work. She opened the front door of her home as quietly as she could, not seeing her mother up and seated at the kitchen table as she normally was when Lauren arrived home. _She must be asleep. How late is it?_

Right as Lauren pulled out her phone to check the time, the device vibrated in her hands at the incoming of a new text message.

_New Message from Camila_ the screen read.

Unnerved as to why the girl was up this late, Lauren swiped her thumb over the touch screen to open up the text. _Maybe she had too much coffee after school today_.

**[Camila - 11:54 PM]** are u home from work yet?

**[Lauren - 11:54 PM]** I just walked in the door.

**[Camila - 11:55 PM]** are u going to bed anytime soon? i can't sleep.

Lauren walked up the stairs and into her room, discarding her dirty apron onto the floor as she rolled her eyes.

**[Lauren - 11:57 PM]** Why? Too much coffee again? ;)

**[Camila - 11:57 PM]** no.

It felt as if something heavy had dropped into the pit of Lauren's stomach, and she swallowed to rid her throat of the sudden dryness.

**[Lauren - 11:58 PM]** Is everything okay? Do you want to me to call you so you can talk?

**[Camila - 11:59 PM]** not really. actually can u come over? i just wanna see ur face when i talk to u because im really upset and u always make me feel better.

Stifling a whimper by biting down on her lip, Lauren typed out her reply.

**[Lauren - 12:00 AM]** Okay. Just let me change out of these dirty work clothes. I'll be over in five.

**[Camila - 12:00 AM]** okay. i left my window open for u.

Lauren scrambled to pull an outfit together as she shucked her work shirt over her head and tossed it into an unknown corner of her room. Yanking a sweater over her head and basketball shorts over her legs, Lauren moved quickly across the expanse of her room to her window, stepping out onto her roof and carefully making her way over to Camila's side.

She bent down under the window to get inside Camila's room, making sure not to step on the girl as her foot came in contact with Camila's mattress. Once she was fully inside, Lauren listened to the noise of crickets chirping pour in through the still open window, and the soft sounds of Camila's sniffling as they echoed throughout her tiny green bedroom.

"Can you close the window?" Camila's voice cracked, the sound causing Lauren's pulse to race. "The crickets are annoying.

She whispered a small "Sure" before sliding the glass shut, then taking a seat at the foot of Camila's bed. The younger girl's toes poked out from underneath the blankets, showcasing her brightly colored, fuzzy pink socks. Lauren smiled, and played idly with a loose piece of fabric on Camila's sock near her pinky toe.

"What's wrong, Camz?" Lauren asked softly, watching her friend's body tremble from under the covers.

"Can you play with my hair?" Camila asked suddenly, throwing Lauren off. The younger girl glanced up from where she was positioned at the front of the bed with a rosy tinge to her cheeks, surprisingly visible within the darkness of her bedroom. "I'm sorry," she rushed out. "That was a weird question. You don't have to, it's just that I like it when people play with my hair when I'm upset but no one ever plays with my hair, except for you those few times when we watched those movies in your room together -- I don't even think you realized you were doing it, but it made me feel special and, I don't know, I just want to feel-"

" _Camila_ ," Lauren cut her off with a soft chuckle, immediately recalling the days Camila had mentioned. How could she forget? Camila had been curled into her side, Lauren's arm around her shoulder, snuggling in to Lauren's body as the older girl idly twirled strands of Camila's silk brown hair around her fingers.

That day was forever cemented in Lauren's mind; she couldn't recall a time, any time, like it, where she had felt so content and relaxed in another person's company.

When she realized she had been silent for too long, and the younger girl was staring up at her, brown eyes full of worry, Lauren shook her head with an easy smile. "Of course. Scoot over."

The emission seemed to make Camila smile as she shuffled over on her bed, making enough space for Lauren to crawl over and slide into. Once the older girl had situated herself, Camila rested her head on Lauren's lap, eyes drifting shut at the feel of Lauren's nimble fingers massaging at her scalp.

"What happened today?" Lauren asked after a stretch of silence. "Was it something in school?"

She felt Camila nod against her leg.

"What was it? Did you get a bad grade or something?"

"No. Well, kind of," Camila admitted with a sigh, her fingers tugging at the silky fabric of Lauren's shorts. "Someone said something to me today."

Lauren's blood roiled with anger, and she had to clench her jaw to keep herself from saying something she might regret. "Tell me what happened, Camz," she managed to say coolly, though the hand that wasn't running through Camila's hair was gripping tightly to the mattress.

After a beat of silence in which Camila had steadied her breathing, she began, "Well, today in English, we were reading out loud something we were assigned weeks ago.

"We had to recite our favorite poems in front of the class. And, you know me," she huffed out a humorless chuckle, "I get nervous over the things that don't matter anyway. But, this poem has so much meaning to me, and it... it was a really personal thing for me to share in front of the class. So, anyway," she shuffled against Lauren's thigh to make herself more comfortable.

"It was finally my turn to stand up in front of the class, and I was shaking, Lauren, Like, my whole body was trembling. You could _hear_ the sheet of paper rustling in my hands. And so, like, I started reading, and my teacher was like, "Speak up, Miss Cabello, we can't hear you". And I did, but you could hear how nervous I was. And then, God, I started _stuttering_ , Lauren, something I haven't done since freshman year. I'm a senior!" Camila pouted. "You would think I'd know how to speak in front if a bunch of people by now.

And so, as I was stuttering and in so much emotional pain and embarrassment at the front of my class, a few girls started snickering. I ignored them as best as I could, but then they started whispering to each other. And I knew it was about me. They kept glancing up in my direction. At that point, I had stopped speaking and was just staring hopelessly at this group of girls in the back of the room. And then my teacher, again, was like, ‘ _Miss Cabello, please continue reading_ ’ and then ‘ _Miss Cabello, if you're not going to speak, you're going to take a zero on this assignment and I’m going to have to ask you to sit down_.’ So, I just blinked at him and then took my seat, because if I hadn't I probably would have started crying.”

"Camila," Lauren whispered, trying her best to conceal her emotions. "I'm so, so sorry."

"That's not even the worst part," Camila mumbled. "After class, those girls came up to me and started mocking my poem. And then they started making fun of me. Cause, apparently, there's this stupid damn rumor going around my school that I'm a lesbian, and you know how high schoolers are -- they're fucking leeches who intend of sucking out the happiness of everyone they pass in the hallway."

Lauren allowed herself to laugh, because Camila was right; plus, the slip use of a curse word was incredibly endearing, coming from a girl who still thought stuffed animals should enjoy a tea party from time to time.

"I'm afraid to ask, but," Lauren swallowed. "What did they say?"

"Oh, the usual. Like, ‘ _Creepy dyke. I bet that poem was about your girlfriend._ ’ And then they just started calling me names until they got bored and walked away."

Lauren felt her anger return. "And no one stopped to help you?"

"That's another thing about high schoolers -- they're not only leeches, but they're observers; they just watch what happens around them, and aren't proactive about solving any pressing issues."

"What was your poem?" Lauren asked, glancing down at Camila, who was gazing up at her with a curious glint to her eyes. "I want to hear it."

"N-No, I don't," Camila swallowed. "I don't think you do."

"I do." Lauren's voice was strong, cement, a reassuring glimmer in Camila's otherwise unstable emotional bridge. "At least, if you read it to me, someone who actually cares about you gets to listen."

Camila seemed to mull over the request -- or demand, rather -- for a few seconds before giving Lauren her answer. "Okay."

When she made no move to get up and retrieve the poem, Lauren frowned. "Don't you need to get up and, like, go get it?"

"No," Camila shook her head. "I have it memorized."

"Oh," Lauren responded. "Whenever you're ready, then, I guess."

They ended up sitting in silence for a long while, Lauren still gently combing her fingers through Camila's hair as the younger girl breathed evenly again, her breaths ghosting across Lauren's exposed knee, the hot puffs of air raising goosebumps along the skin of her thigh. Lauren had thought the younger girl had nodded off, and was beginning to do so herself, until Camila's raspy voice broke the bubble of silence surrounding the two of them.

" _The house this morning_ ," Camila's voice was low and quiet, but still loud and powerful enough to ring inside Lauren's ears. She recognized this poem.

" _\--with its truths scrambled, blankets and feathers, the start of the day already in flux -- drifts like a poor little boat between its horizons of order and sleep._

_Objects want only to drag themselves along:_  
 _vestiges, entropic followers, cold legacies._  
 _Papers hide their shriveled vowels;_  
 _the wine in the bottle prefers to continue yesterday_.

_But you -- The One Who Puts Things in Order -- you shimmer through like a bee, probing spaces lost to the darkness:_  
 _conquering light, you with your white energy._  
 _So you construct a new clarity here,_  
 _and objects obey, following the wind of life:_  
 _and Order establishes its bread, a dove._ "

There was no air left in Lauren's lungs, no sustenance of oxygen for her brain to thrive off of as the last of Camila's words hung in the air around them. Heart beating radically in her chest, palms sweating (the one having stopped raking its way through Camila's tresses), Lauren blinked her eyes at the enclosing darkness surrounding them.

"Pablo Neruda," Camila offered when Lauren's throat had refused to emit language. "That's, um, that's my favorite poet. I-I was, uh, I was going to give you my book of his, the one with all of his sonnets compiled into, but it seemed too romantic -- not! not that what is happening between you and I is anything romantic. I just... I'm, uh... Lauren?"

Lauren was still staring at the wall opposite the two of them on the other side of Camila's room. A poster hung there, but she wasn't paying it any mind; she could care less what was on it, honestly. All she could focus on was the poem Camila had recited for her, the words still dancing around in her brain.

She was so focused on her own thoughts she hadn't noticed Camila had changed positions, sitting upright and putting any amount if available space between them.

"I'm sorry," Camila croaked, and it snapped Lauren's attention towards her. Camila's expression was deflated, tears welling up in her eyes.

Without thinking, Lauren reached up and cupped Camila's cheeks between her hands.

"Why are you apologizing?" Lauren asked, brushing a stray tear trailing down Camila's cheek with her thumb.

"Because I was thinking about you when I was saying it."

Lauren couldn't contain the smile that spread across her lips.

"Camila," she whispered, happily, an air in voice she had never heard before. "I really, _really_ want to kiss you right now."

Camila blinked, a radiant smile of her own adorning her otherwise dreary appearance.

"So kiss me."

Lauren's eyes darted to Camila's waiting lips, plump and rosy and _oh_ so soft-looking. An even rosier tongue poked out to wet said lips, and Lauren began to feel lightheaded, even before anything had taken place.

She edged closer, tilting her head and causing her nose to brush slightly against the side of Camila's. When their lips were inches apart, and Lauren could feel Camila's shaky breath ghosting along her own lips, she paused, hesitating, as her conscious thinking began to kick in.

"Have you ever kissed anyone before?" Lauren asked, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.

"No," Camila replies, her eyes, previously glued to Lauren's lips, darting upwards to meet a piercing, sea green gaze. "Why?"

"I can't steal your first kiss like that," Lauren said, but made no effort to move away.

"You wouldn't be stealing it," Camila breathed. "I'm giving it to you. It's not stealing if I want you to have it."

And Camila gave it to her, a compelling confidence the younger girl never realized she even had pushing her forward to press her lips to Lauren's in a searing kiss.

And Lauren accepted it gratefully, handling the exchange with the utmost care, locking away the moment and guarding it with all her heart. With nothing other than the feel of Camila's lips, the trembling brush of Camila's fingers against her neck, and the tickle of Camila's hair against her cheeks, Lauren fell back against the pillows situated at the head of Camila's bed, and allowed herself to succumb to the inches that kept them apart for all this time.

\---

a/n: help i've fallen and i can't get up  
 **([this is what i had in mind when i was writing this just fyi](http://mistyandcordelia.tumblr.com/post/75639981452/ceruleanrabbitking-doctor-john))**


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